The work of a minute
by Bond.Jane
Summary: I was asked for my thoughts on the "Moonlighting" curse. I wrote this story to prove there is no such thing.


The work of a minute

The work of a minute

Booth walked into the medico-legal lab with two missions on his mind – the dead woman currently occupying the central examination table and his blue eyed wife. His long legs strode their longest strides; his shinny black shoes drew squeaks from the polished floor. His long fingers swiped the security card with the familiar blip that never failed to tingle his heart.

He approached the table as much as he dared. No use getting swatted in public for invading the altar of science his wife worshiped on.

"Bones, Bones, Bones! Come on, what have you got for me?" Her eyebrow raised in a question mark, she lifted her eyes to him and though the flutter of eyelashes seemed perfectly innocent, he read between the lines the innuendo, the invitation. Never missing a beat, she recited all that the team had come up with since her preliminary examination at the crime scene.

They had an almost exact time of death, results of the DNA testing and toxic screen, particulates, a complete inventory of pre mortem injuries but, to Brennan's frustration, not much on the murder weapon.

She sighed.

"I'll get it, Booth! I think that if I reverse engineer the markings on the frontal lobe, I may be able to come up with approximate shape. Angela is imputing data on probable speed and angle. I've already got Hodgins' analysis. I think in a few hours we should have it…" He could see her skin's pallor, the shadows under her eyes and her shoulders slumping that little bit that only he could perceive. Through the usual crowd of coming and going assistants and colleagues, Booth mouthed _"I love you". _

The silent message did not go unnoticed by Angela. Neither did Brennan's smile or the goose bumps in her skin and especially not the mouthed silent reply _"I love you too" _

"Get us a warrant, Booth", Brennan spoke out loud effectively breaking the spell. "As soon as we know exactly what weapon we're talking about, we should get on our way!"

"Can I use your computer?" But Brennan was already concentrating on a screen showing impossible magnifications of bone fragments, her fingers following lines, her brain calculating possibilities. He kissed the top of her head and walked to her office to get started on the warrant.

An hour later, she walked in, locking the door behind her. He was still working the keyboard, one finger at a time, calculating each key as if afraid he might get bitten by it. He was cursing burocracy like a mantra.

"Quick fingers, Booth" She winked at him when he looked up.

"Ah, and hey have life in them yet," he said flexing his fingers. She got close and his fingers got busy again, looking for ways into her lab coat.

"Booth!" her breath hitched, as it always did when he touched her "We're at work"'

"I know"

"Cut it out…" but her heart was not in the order "…in a minute or two…" His fingers were tracing patterns on her skin. He kissed her hungrily, his mouth offering as much as it was taking. Her mouth tasted like chocolate and apple pie and mac n' cheese and every single one of his favourite things.

"Such a short time bracket, Bones! But I'll take the minute", he pulled her to his lap and kissed her neck "and then we'll talk about extending it". The dexterity he lacked on using the key board, he had it in spades on her body. He knew all her little places and, because she'd given him a minute, he decided not to waste a single second. She sighed against his shoulder.

"God, you're good at this!" Her mind was clouding up and her resolve weakening. Her knees were weak and she held on to his belt for support.

"Oh!", he smiled, happy with the endorsement. "And is that a strictly anthropological observation?" he asked between kisses and manoeuvring her skilfully out of her lab coat and shirt.

_How did he get all of this off so fast_ she would later remember asking herself.

"Well, I'm an empiricist, Booth! And that minute is definitely over by now!" Her hands were busy absorbing his body heat, independently from her will, roaming his chest, his back, his shoulders. Her fingers were hitching to unbutton his shirt, his belt buckle, her mouth busy biting his chin

"Let's make time stop, then!" and he carried her to the sofa, leaving all her clothes pooling by her desk. He lowered her gently, his hands taking in her familiar forms, loving her in every little inch of skin he touched.

"I want you so much!" she purred in his ear, her voice husky with need. He looked her in the eyes and took possession of her, claiming every single one of her heart beats, every single one of her breaths. _All mine_ he thought fiercely, _absolutely, entirely mine, _the thought urging him on, her sighs, her purrs, forever in his mind.

There were words of love, of desire, of desperate need until the moment came where no words were heard- or relevant.

They just hugged, bodies slick with sweat, in the dark of the office, so close she could have fallen asleep with his exhaustion. So entirely belonging to each other they were only one soul, one body.

"Are you ready to go home, wife?" She snorted.

"Don't call me that!"

He kissed her ruffled feathers down.

"You look tired. You've been at the lab for almost 30 hours…"

"Sex is funny that way, don't you think?"

"Oh, look at me, Bones, I'm still laughing!", he retorted, the sarcasm softened by the hand caressing her hair.

"I mean, sometimes, sex drains all your energy. And then, sometimes, it boosts your energy levels. I wonder why that is…" she toyed with the ring on his finger.

"Well, you're the PhD…" he looked into her eyes shinning bright. "I guess you feel like the energizer bunny…"  
"I don't know what that means… but I'm ready for a few more hours…"

He kissed her long and hard.

"Glad I could help"

Outside, a depressingly Goth girl elbowed Angela in her midriff.

"So, I lay odds they're doing it!"

Angela swallowed a giggle. That kind of thought was for her alone and not to be shared with the assistant of the week. So, she put her sternest look on her face and her hand slapped the back of the girl's head smartly with a thud.

"Go do…" She looked the girl up and down "whatever it is you do!". The girl marched out of the platform as if the devil itself were on her heels. "and take your mind of the gutter" Angela's voice reached the girl who was almost safe in Limbo And then softly: "That is MY role in this institution, MY purpose in life!"


End file.
